I remember my mother once saying—quoting her father—that Easter Sunday is a lot like heaven. Perhaps it is the closest thing that we will experience to it here upon the earth.

I cannot prove that statement Biblically, but I have attempted to meditate upon it through the years, and I think there is much truth in it.

Growing up, I was part of a church tradition that placed great emphasis on Easter Sunday—which some strongly prefer to call Resurrection Sunday—and all of the events leading up to it. By the time we got to Holy Week—which I now prefer to call Passion Week—to my young mind it was as if we were really reliving the events of those most awesome days. It was as if Christ truly had to go the way of the cross on Friday, before we found out once again that He “is risen indeed” (Luke 24:34) on Sunday.

These customs made an indelible impact upon me. Good Friday ended with the closing of the Bible and the darkening of the church, and silence. Easter Sunday began with a service at the actual time of sunrise, and that made a point. The day—well, except for the years we had April snowstorms—was truly like a blast of bright, blinding sunlight that overwhelmed the darkness we had left behind on Friday.

Yes, we celebrated Lent. The term Lent triggers strong emotions in two opposing directions among evangelicals. In some quarters, it is making a comeback. Others believe that the mere mention of it is heresy.

This is a serialized adaptation of my Easter sermon in article form. This isn’t a traditional Easter message. Instead of simply presenting the resurrection, I challenge visitors to think about the bankruptcy of their secular worldviews, as compared to the Christian faith and message. This appeal culminates in a brief explanation of the resurrection, its place in the Christian story, and an appeal to “come in from the cold” (so to speak) and join God’s family.1

We finished the first installment by asking you to consider the kind of evidence you rely on in everyday life. You don’t require absolute certainty and exhaustive knowledge for everything in your life. For example, you don’t know precisely how your phone works, but you know it does work, and that’s good enough for you to trust it. There is plenty of this kind of evidence for the Christian faith and message; more specifically, for the Christian way of looking at and interpreting reality. There’s more evidence for the Christian worldview than any alternative.

This is a serialized adaptation of my forthcoming Easter sermon in article form. This isn’t a traditional Easter message. Instead of simply presenting the resurrection, I challenge visitors to think about the bankruptcy of their secular worldviews, as compared to the Christian faith and message. This appeal culminates in a brief explanation of the resurrection, its place in the Christian story, and an appeal to “come in from the cold” (so to speak) and join God’s family.1

When Jesus commands people to “repent and believe the Gospel,” what does He mean by that? What does it mean to “believe?” What does it mean to “have faith?”

Bad distortions

There are many distortions of what “faith” and “belief” are, in a Christian context. One is that “faith” is just blind faith opposed to evidence, even if it exists! Another is that “faith” is a “leap in the dark” based on no evidence at all, like one the learned Professor Henry Jones was obligated to take to save his father’s life. There are others, but these are the two I want to focus on, because they’re the most common.

Where do these wrong ideas of “faith” or “belief” come from? Some are pushed by Christians, in a well-meaning but terribly wrong way. Others are pushed by secular humanist evangelists, like Richard Dawkins. Whoever is pushing them, these distortions have nothing to do with what the Scriptures say “faith” or “belief” is, which is trust and allegiance based on evidence.

A man named Jesus hung on a cross. Prior to that point, this man had endured the rejection of his people, arrest on false pretenses, an illegal trial in which he was falsely accused, beaten and abused, and ultimately condemned to die because of the spiritual arrogance of his accusers.

To the eyes of many, this man was a good teacher, perhaps even a prophet; certainly a healer, and a remarkable leader. But he claimed to be something more—much more. And then this—he hung on a cross to die among the lowest of criminals.

His followers abandoned him for fear of their lives. In the end it appeared he died in complete failure. There was no kingdom, no deliverance. To many it appeared he died humiliated, broken, and completely alone. He even cried out to the God he called his father: “My God, My God, why have You forsaken me!?” This Jesus claimed to be the Son of God. But to him belonged the fate of crucifixion.